


Clé de Voûte

by TheDarkFlygon



Series: Fever February [14]
Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Brotherly Love, Character Study, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Insomnia, Internal Monologue, Panic Attacks, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Sickfic, Sleep Deprivation, What Have I Done, a surprising lack of slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 12:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon
Summary: [FEVER FEBRUARY - DAY 14: FEVERISH CONFESSIONS]Everything has just gone so wrong before, he can't allow things to go even worse.What a shame, his mind has gone insomniac, unable to sleep, invaded by black clouds of negative thoughts and what ifs.If you take out the keystone, everything falls apart. That's why someone needs to keep the gears in place, and it'll be him.Except it doesn't go the way things should go.





	Clé de Voûte

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Clé de Voûte (version française)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637195) by [TheDarkFlygon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon)



> Written for Fever February!  
> https://mugenthesickfic.tumblr.com/post/170469673461/introducing-fever-february
> 
> I swear, I kept spamming Lordi with quotes because I was afraid of going overly edgy as if I was developping Shadow the Hedgehog.  
> This is half "trying to fit myself in Iori's shoes" and half "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGST". Sorry for any OOCness, you could guess it's the first time I'm writing stuff for I7 hahaha
> 
> If I had to place it in the actual game/anime chronology, it would be after Music Festa for sure, before the end of Part 1 too, but where exactly it would stand between these? Hmmm good question.

The plan was simple: deal with exams the day, deal with the idol business afterwards, find some time for school and homework on the evening, sleep, rinse and repeat. It was fairly easy. It was all a question of balancing things out properly. Nothing he couldn’t, wouldn’t, wouldn’t be able to manage, in short.

And while it worked until then, everything fell apart when he got insomnia.

 

The eight hours of sleep were essential to the plan. Thanks to them, he could have enough energy to go through, as easily as ever, everything he had to do. Everyone was counting on him, from his band members to their manager.

But if he couldn’t get what he needed, then it would all fall apart, and he couldn’t bear failure. Not after the catastrophe at Music Festa. He had to hold it together, just so he could prove (probably to himself, but also to all the others) he had everything in control when, really, it was less and less the case.

 

As exams ended, they’ve had to take care of the web show. That’s all he could think of, in his bed: he knew he had succeeded at the exams, but he was… worried for the show. The guys kept derailing everything, from spoiling what was planned at the end of the broadcast to teasing each other until one of them burst out. Luckily, he never burst out.

He rolls around. This isn’t time to be unable to find sleep. What worries him is that he’s seen his sleep dwindle with days passing. It has gone from eight, to seven, to six, to barely a couple hours, to tonight. No sleep. He’s going for a full-on sleepless night.

 

3AM. He’s still up and running. Maybe he should go outside, breathe some air and come back. Maybe a walk will help him. It’s settled. He’s getting back into casual clothes, quickly, and makes his way through the dorm, in near complete silence.

Outside is empty. Desert. Cold. The temperature is, after all, the only thing which it doesn’t have in common with the inside of his room. He walks around the lit streets, waiting for something to happen so he can recover his sleep. He feels tired, if not downright exhausted, but if his mind is elsewhere and his heart growing in panic, exhaustion won’t make anything better.

 

That’s the issue. Black thoughts, clouding his brain and capacity to think properly. He knows his schedule is broken with no hope of fixing it in time for the next shows. It’s as if, as soon as anyone breaks out from the script he’s helped writing, he loses minutes of sleep he unexpectedly needs more than team spirit and whatever idol bands are supposed to do to keep it together.

He knows he won’t avoid that one because they’re only three on the stage. Nanase, his brother and him. All the others are torn between auditions, MEZZO” and filming. And that’s fine, because the group needs to extend their perspectives before they can all debut together, as seven, as it was always meant to be.

What’s not fine is the fact he’s now insomniac.

 

He takes that back. There’s something else wrong with him and which interferes with his scripts and plans and schedules. A… feeling of weakness. At least it’s not a cough or a cold. That’s the only thing which could be worse. He can’t be sick. He’s barely sick anyway, and while his perfect record of perfect acts got destroyed by his own failure, he intends on keeping his sickness record straight with none. Nothing.

Does he even know what an illness feels like? He’s seen his brother being sick before. That’s how he knows how it looks like in other people. There is a difference between the regular sicknesses he sees around and Nanase’s condition. That, he’s sure of too. And what he’s sure to, is how dreadful things could go for everyone would his health fail him.

 

He has to fix that insomnia, but he couldn’t find sleeping pills in the dorms, and he clearly doesn’t have enough time to lose to go buy some in a pharmacy. Right when he needs to be perfect, because show must go on, it’s like his own body has decided not to comply. It ignores what’s at stake, and he hates that. One failure, not two. One let-down, not two. What makes failures okay to the eyes of others is the fact you can and are expected to fix your mistakes.

Insomnia isn’t fixing anything. It’s breaking everything he’s built up. Just shows how easy to break something, as finely crafted as it can be.

 

Fixing an issue also requires knowing where said issue comes from. He can’t say he doesn’t know where it could have all started: having to balance between the band and school, while running the entire show from the shadows with or through the Manager, while having to be the solid one of them all. It wasn’t supposed to be that stressful. Why is it so stressful anyway? Why does he angst over it like that, wandering hopelessly in the streets in the middle of the night as if that was going to fix anything, including his insomnia?

He wonders how anybody hasn’t noticed his dark rings. Or, at least, how anybody hasn’t noticed the make-up he’s using to try and fix that slip-up. Maybe he’s just that good at make-up too. Or maybe nobody has the time nor attention left to notice such a tiny detail. Maybe it complements his hair, or his eyes. He’s always been… dull compared to the others.

 

Yes, he’s always been… that guy. The guy nobody really wants to talk to, because he’s harsh and almost poisonous, but whom everybody has to one day ask something about because he’s good at organizing, management, studies and sports alike. That’s how he entered the school council, back in his former high school. Clearly, it wasn’t for his charisma or his personality.

And in the unit, it’s the same. Everyone shines by themselves and in the group alike, with colourful personalities to boot. If he is to be focused upon, it’s because he gets associated with the much more colourful and endearing Nanase. He can’t pretend like he isn’t admiring Nanase: his voice is their best weapon, his innocence and never-ending energy makes everyone’s eyes shimmer, a shooting star on stage.

 

No, he’s just a pillar. There’s nothing exceptional about him when it comes to idol performances. He’s average at singing, average at dancing, average at team cohesion. He’s just average. A necessary gear in the complex machine that is IDOLiSH7, of course, but not what shines the most. He’s the hidden gear. Of course, he’s doing everything just right, as always, without much difficulty. That’s why, as opposed to his brother working his hardest with finding a spot in the unit and his worth as an idol, he has time to worry about Nanase and scripts.

Of course, it’s not because his role isn’t shining that it’s not necessary to the machine. Would he derail, the entire organisation would fall apart. He doesn’t want to show his lesser sides to his companions. Once was more than enough. A character-forging moment for everyone, including him, because there laid his worst fear.

Failure.

 

It was brand new, for him. The feeling of having done something the wrong way, breaking dreams, shattering hopes. He wanted to disappear, leave forever, never to be seen again. But they caught him back. Told him it wasn’t his fault, when it was. It was his entire fault and he could only blame himself for it. It was hard to think for him he could had been forgiven for it. Because of it, because of him, he had thrown their situation in jeopardy as everyone was trying to make up for a delayed debut. They’re still trying to get out of it.

All because of him.

 

Eventually, he’s back at the dorm. It’s 4AM, and he still doesn’t feel like sleeping. He feels anxious. He, usually, doesn’t feel anxious. Exams don’t scare him. Being an idol shouldn’t scare him, but his fears have caught up to him. Fears he didn’t know he had in the first place. Fears which emerged from realizing how far things can go would he mess up.

And that’s why he’s resolved not to fail anyone, starting with himself.

 

* * *

 

 

7AM, Saturday. It’s not too early for him to exit his room and make his way into the kitchen, just so he can eat breakfast. He’s not that hungry, but just like he doesn’t sleep for the pleasure of sleeping, he eats because he needs energy, the energy his sleep won’t give him. Breakfast is going to light and effective, just like it should be, because he doesn’t have time to be lethargic. Even if he does feel a bit lethargic…

Like everybody, he felt tired before in his life, but not to that extent. It’s all because his schedule got broken by some kind of ailment of which’s escape is unclear. He needs to find a way to break out of it, but that requires thinking about it, and right now, he has something else on his mind, including a throbbing sensation. He’ll have to check for medicine again.

 

Problem: while almost everybody is already out, his brother is still in the dorm, and right now, he’s arriving in the kitchen to eat breakfast too. And he forgot to put on something to hide his rings. He has to come up with an excuse, in case he asks… He would hate to lie to him, but if it’s necessary, he’s willing to do so.

“Oh, good morning Iori!” his brother speaks to him as soon as he notices him, “I wasn’t expecting you to be up so late.”

“Good morning,” his voice seems to struggle exiting his throat, “big brother.”

“Ready for tonight’s live? We’re four down, but I’m sure we’ll do something great and fun for our fans to watch!”

“Of course.”

 

Mitsuki gets a bowl and some cereals out, grabs some orange juice and sits right in front of him. His cheerful expression sours out.

“Hey,” he looks his younger brother’s eyes, “you don’t look like you’re doing so good, no?”

“I’m perfectly fine, brother.”

Orange eyebrows frown.

“C’mon, you’re lying to your big bro now? This isn’t like you.”

“I take optimal care of my health. It would be unprofessional of me not to.”

Before his sibling can add anything, he gets up from the table, waving a quick “I have to see the Manager” and leaves the room. Shouts about his unfinished cereals (they were almost nauseating to look at…) make him think he better hurry to the bathroom, or somewhere where he can lock himself because Mitsuki’ll always find a way. That’s how great he is.

 

His luck is extraordinary when he hears Rokuga and Nanase enter the room. They’re giving him a distraction so he can at least hide his dark rings from everybody else. Worrying people will make the gears fall apart. And he doesn’t want the gears to derail and ruin the machinery. That’s why he has to stay strong, head up, as if he wasn’t an insomniac. Washing his face will make it better. Putting on make-up will make it better.

He puts on some under his eyes, blend it, but it remains. The darkness remains, half-hidden underneath a layer of flesh-coloured products. His eyes attempt on shutting down on their own, but he forces them open. He won’t back down. One failure, not two.

 

When he goes back into the room, because there is a show later today and all, his fellow companions have been dwindled to his brother and Nanase. Good. The less people there, the less people to convince. Their manager soon urges into the room, chippering about today’s plan. Today is a morning of training (at three people, it’s going to be a challenging task, isn’t it) and an afternoon of broadcasting their web show.

At least, she doesn’t seem to notice everything wrong with any of them, which includes him. Good, because he’s starting to feel a bit weird. His head is spinning a little. He spots his brother staring at him, angry, worried. He has to be reassured, and without a question, he’s decided to do so.

 

* * *

 

 

“Welcome to _An IDOLiSH7 Night with You_! I’m Nanase Riku, and I’m very happy to see you all once more!”

The show opens on the three of them sitting on these familiar seats, smiling to the camera and to their manager happily holding signs. Well, as happy as he can naturally be. A small smirk is enough: Nanase and his brother are going to be in the spotlight during the entire broadcast anyway.

“I’m Izumi Mitsuki! I hope you all have an awesome day!”

“And I’m Izumi Iori.”

 

Once again, they go off-script very fast. They spew out end-of-the-show information as if it was some cheap candy given out to kids. It’s all laughs, giggles, and he’s retaining to scream inside because he knows it’ll come out weaker than usual. He tries to interact with them, just so nobody notices anything. It… doesn’t work very well: his earing is getting muffled.

That’s not how it’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be proactive, even if it’s after the both of them. He can’t catch up with them, he even feels breathless. His breathing gets quicker and quicker, as if getting out of control. He can’t panic, but he’s downright wondering what the hell he can do. The spinning won’t stop now.

 

As Nanase happily rambles about the comments, and his brother looks over the laptop screen with a wide grin, he tries to prevent himself from falling asleep. Or passing out. He’s unsure whether or not he’s about to lose consciousness or if it’s just his insomnia vanishing. The knots inside his stomach and throat tighten even more.

Darkness creeps around the corners of his vision. Worse than not understanding then realizing his failure as it’s happening, is seeing it come his way. He knows he can’t do much about it anymore, and it’s the worst feeling. Not only is he failing: everybody can notice so, himself the first, as he doesn’t control anything about the show, his appearance, his behaviour. This isn’t what was supposed to be.

 

He was supposed to keep everything in check, taking upon himself to succeed.

Instead, he’s just failing, panicking, and just wants to hide his face inside his hands.

 

He suddenly feels very bad. It’s not sleep coming towards him, it’s consciousness leaving his body. He can’t pass out on stage. That’s not professional. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. It can’t happen. It’s not scripted. It’s not proper.

He wants to leave, disappear, die, vanish in an instant, never be seen again, because it knows it’s coming for him despite his best efforts.

The stage is no more than bright, burning, blurry stains of colour around him, twirling and twirling. His entire head pounds and throbs. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. This isn’t how it should be. He shouldn’t on the verge of passing out.

 

An orange silhouette comes into his blurry frame. There’s something, probably hands, holding his arms.

“Iori! Iori, answer me!! Goddammit, say something, anything!!”

“Big… big bro…” his voice has gone dim. It’s hard to speak when it’s already hard to breathe.

“What the hell are you…”

A red blob, presumably Nanase, gets into the frame too.

“Manager, please stop the camera!! There’s something wrong with Iori!!”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen…

 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be…

This wasn’t in the script…

This wasn’t the end it was meant to have…

 

There’s tears running down his eyes and face. He hears their manager fret over, panic even, before screaming in stops, running towards them on her small heels. He didn’t want them to stare at him as if he was dying. He’s not dying. He’s just a bit under the weather…

“What’s wrong, Iori?!” Nanase asks, yelling as if to make sure he was going to hear it.

“I’m calling a doctor! Riku, Mitsuki, please take care of him meanwhile!”

His brother’s eyes are being insistent on him. He doesn’t have to distinguish them to know that. The strong grip alone is enough. The sound of heels appears again, only to sink into silence again…

“I… I…”

It’s like it can’t even exit his mouth.

“I don’t know…”

 

He wishes he could see their faces right now.

“I knew something was wrong…” the brother growls, clutching for his sibling’s remaining fragments of consciousness.

“What does he have?”

“I don’t have a single idea, Riku,” the voice fades away despite his yelling undertone, “but he’s never done such a thing before!”

Hands on his back. Nanase’s, for sure, as he feels something on his forehead. He almost feels like he isn’t touching anything anymore.

“He’s running a fever!”

 

The horrified tone in Mitsuki’s voice is almost out of character. He’s never heard him scream in such fear.

“Why didn’t you tell us anything, Iori? You were insisting on us being aware of Riku’s condition, why didn’t you tell us?!”

It’s like he’s blaming a chronic circumstance which could bomb the group as much as a small, albeit odd, occurrence.

“Didn’t know I was… sick…” slurs out of his mouth. It’s not even a proper answer.

 

He chokes back on a sob. This is too much. The camera stopped rolling, and he has both his brother and his friend looking over him as if he was passing away. Sobs lead to cough. He can’t breathe. His head won’t stop hurting. He can’t even look at them both properly anymore, both out of shame and out of physical difficulties. Technical difficulties.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen… I’m sorry…”

 

“Iori…” Nanase’s voice trails off, soft, almost soothing. The shooting star he wishes he would see in his dark night of clouds.

“Why’s that, ‘it wasn’t supposed to happen’?” His brother asks with little less impulsion. “What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“That…” he keeps on choking, it pains his throat. “That… I’m supposed to… do it all flawlessly… Yet I… I…”

He clutches his eyes shut. He only wants to see darkness and hear silence.

“I failed everything…! I… can’t even sleep anymore…”

 

His brother gulps, tears him away from Nanase’s hands and clutches him against him.

“You idiot! You should had told us… You’re probably thinking you can’t do anything wrong because of last time, and that got to you, hasn’t it?”

He simply nods.

“That’s stupid, everybody screws up from time to time. Even you, Iori. You shouldn’t make yourself sick over being perfect, ’cause nobody’s perfect, y’know?”

“B-but… I did it live… and…”

“You shouldn’t care about that. It’s going to be okay. Calm down, nobody is going to scold you for being unwell. Just tell us next time.”

His eyes close down without a warning, and he finally gets to see this welcomed darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

“What does he have?” asks Tsumugi as she walks up to the seventh member of the band.

“According to Mitsuki,” Riku replies pointing at the room with his thumb, “it’s mostly a lack of sleep and stress. Man, I didn’t know Iori was going through so much…”

The manager’s face dims too, as she looks at the floor.

 

“The doctor said he was going to be fine in a few days, though. I’m sure he’ll get better real fast and understand it’s okay to be under the weather sometimes.”

“I hope so too. We can only count on the future and what’s to come, right? I’ll prepare the explanation for the broadcast getting cut short, and I’ll explain the situation to the others…”

“No, Manager! Let Mitsuki do it, please! I’m sure he gets what’s been going through Iori’s mind better than we do.”

A soft smile appears on the girl’s face.

“You’re right, Riku… I’ll let Mitsuki take care of this. For now, let’s resume work and occasionally check up on how things are going!”

 

Tsumugi leaves swiftly, leaving Riku alone. He sighs: this really was weird. Weird, and worrying, but the worry part mostly goes to his older friend who’s probably having some kind of older brother stress. He can’t say he’s not familiar with it, being on the receiving end of it during all of his childhood.

He doesn’t need to look into the room to be sure Mitsuki’s either guarding his brother like a dog or explaining him why it’s okay. He’ll go after him. He needs to check up on his friend himself.

**Author's Note:**

> "I didn't know the script was that broken."


End file.
